


a picture perfect guy

by redluna



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:33:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28208361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redluna/pseuds/redluna
Summary: There's no such thing as the perfect man, as Dorian Pavus well knows. It's why he made his list.And why it makes no sense he's found Cullen.
Relationships: Dorian Pavus/Cullen Rutherford
Comments: 7
Kudos: 40





	a picture perfect guy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Calcitron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calcitron/gifts).



> Happy holidays, Cal! 
> 
> I was already excited to get this love in the Secret Santa exchange, but, well, then I brought up Practical Magic and the wish for the "impossible man" and how it could turn Hallmark so easily and Cal was one of the first to tell me how great idea it was and... _well_.
> 
> This is loosely inspired by a combination of Guy.Exe by Superfruit (lyrics as the title to this, of course, and the lead singer looks like Dorian!) and the spell meant to summon an "impossible man" in Practical Magic.
> 
> Hope I managed to do this some sort of justice!

Given the dedication with which he had curated it throughout his life, Dorian considered himself quite aware of the sort of presence he had. It wasn’t as if, were he ever inclined to forget, there weren’t people all too prepared to remind him. Not that such efforts would always be welcome, but, well, that was something else that Dorian had long since grown accustomed to.

Besides, nowadays, he could at least find such incidents a source of amusement rather than a slight. Some of which certainly had to do with the fact that now, all he had to do to tune out his father’s rather “pointed” opinions on his only son setting up a restaurant, of all things, was to hang up the phone. A similar shade of it was easier when it came from Felix, who, if somewhat drunkenly, proclaimed his envy that Dorian had never seemed to care what people thought.

It made Aurelia swell with a pride that beamed right out in the full force of her smile whenever she had a chance to dictate just how brave her papa had been, so unafraid of censure.

That would have been more than enough to have Dorian keep up the ruse; pretend to the man without a care in the world and, from that, certainly one without a dash of shame.

It took far less effort than one might expect. He wouldn’t have gotten near as far as he had in life if he were afraid to keep trudging forward, after all. Right through the problem customers he had to smile in the face of, the wagging tongues of the PTA members he steadfastly ignored, and those God awful blind dates that Felix had looped the others into helping him to arrange.

If the worst of those days (or  _ dates _ ) lead to him tugging a bit of old notebook paper free from a book that had been one of his childhood favorites then no one needed to know. And they  _ certainly _ didn’t need to know about how he would still add to that list that a misty eyed, furious teenager had once scrawled up.

Because Dorian knew exactly what kind of man he needed in his life. The one that he had created through his own hand to be nothing short of impossible.

*

A good part of what made Dorian such a deft hand at keeping an entire restaurant in order was a natural sense of how things should be. Or, perhaps a bit more accurately if you considered the nature of their back of house, a way of thriving in the midst of chaos.

It was what had him all too often blessing the powers that be that he had managed to snag Josephine and Leliana away from whatever other bright fates the two women were no doubt meant for. Only two women from countries that could rival his own in terms of tumult could be trusted to keep a level head when things threatened to overwhelm.

All of which might have been a bit more comforting if one ignored the fact that none of them were still entirely sure Leliana  _ was _ joking when she threatened to unleash secrets that would make their mothers blush if the din in the kitchen didn’t settle. Were she to leave, after all, then Josephine was sure to follow and she had reformed the inner workings of the waitstaff into a system that made everyone save her go cross eyed.

To claim that things would have fallen apart without the both of them would have been an understatement.

Not that he wouldn’t have suffered through any number of mad jokes, if not entirely the flirting with customers and eye searing wardrobe choices, if Bull would continue to churn out one perfect dish after another. Vivienne, at least, was often enough to keep him from riling up Sera too far, eyes set cooler than their walkin freezer whenever one of them dared to veer too close to calling out what one of her desserts looked like.

(To their credit, it had looked rather... _ well _ . But then, he supposed that left little wonder as to why it had sold so well.)

It was always a careful balance to keep everyone occupied more on their jobs than the near constant state of mayhem they found themselves in.

So, given that, perhaps it shouldn’t have been such a surprise that his cries over where exactly his daughter had gone were meant with almost the same blank looks.

“Little ones are supposed to have freedom, yeah?” Sera was already up to her elbows in suds and it wasn’t even their busy time. If he weren’t so worked up, Dorian might have demanded to know whether she had left some dishes behind last night yet again in an effort to get home to her “Widdle”. “If you’re really that worried leave out a plate of cookies or somethin’.”

“He needs a trap to catch Aurelia, dear,” Vivienne replied for him, “not  _ you _ .” She didn’t even bother with an upward glance from her delicate piping work as Sera began to squawk, hands splashing about in the sink. How she managed to keep her hands so steady in such a painful looking position, Dorian would never be entirely sure.

“Oh, is it about Aurelia?” There were a few stray hairs breaking free from the pins of Josephine’s bun already, which was never a good sign. But, given that she was currently trying to wrangle the grumpier Hawke away from both his brother  _ and  _ Varric, it was also perfectly understandable. “She wanted to take a step outside for a moment.”

“And you  _ let _ her?” Dorian wasn’t about to apologize for the pitch his voice reached, despite the winces. At least it got Garrett Hawke to stop yammering on with whatever way he was trying to charm his way out of trouble this time.

“She knows better than to go too far.” Leliana’s tone was as quietly patient as ever, which, while a comfort when they were dealing with customers demanding to see one of them, did little for Dorian now. “All she would say is that she had a mission. One just a few steps outside the door, as it would happen.”

Dorian was faintly sure those last words trailed off into a chuckle as he spun hard enough on his heel to have to brace himself against the doorframe, but he wasn’t too inclined to care. It was difficult enough as it was to keep a placid expression on his face, restraining himself to a power walk across the main floor.

The relief that hit at discovering that familiar head of dark curls right where promised, however, was quick to evaporate under the realization that he had no idea who the owner of the jacket she was currently clutching ahold of even  _ was _ .

At the time, that was more than enough to make his surge forward make every bit of sense. It wasn’t until a heartbeat later, in which he remembered that having the sidewalk salted did nothing to protect against slush, that he realized that, just perhaps, he should have planned things out a bit better. And that, of course, was a realization that only seemed inclined to strike when he was likely to get a face full of the very same slush that was currently taking his feet right out from under him.

It took a handful of rather embarrassing seconds after he had closed his eyes to brace for impact to come to terms with, if there was still one coming, it seemed uncharastically prepared to take its time. Far too warm as well, which made a good deal more sense when he opened his eyes to find himself face to face with one of the more striking men he had seen in a good long while.

That would have been more than enough to leave Dorian out of breath as he was eased up into a surer hold against a chest that apparently really was as broad as the stretch of the jacket made it out to be. Except it was that exact move that brought the man’s features into even sharper focus. That it made him even more attractive was a guarantee, if not a particularly fair one, but the greater thing to contend with was exactly what those features represented.

Something that would have sounded peculiar to anyone who hadn’t folded and unfolded the same piece of paper enough times to recall what was on it even without it in hand. That, on its own, brought with it its own pinpointed bits of awareness, much as Dorian might try to resist.

There shouldn’t be an eye color that shone like his favorite metals, after all, let alone a scar that bisected an otherwise distracting mouth. A defect that a younger, even prouder, Dorian had once insisted upon over the apprehension of being with a man who would shine even brighter than him (and therefore sure to have the awareness that he could do better).

Except that same mouth was moving now and—oh,  _ oh _ !

“A—Ah, yes, thank you, but…” There were little hands to catch at Dorian’s pants when he stumbled back, which pierced through the fog trying to cloud around his brain with a sharp bit of focus. “Would you mind explaining what you thought you were up to with my daughter?”

“Your…?” The man’s eyes widened as they drifted down, cheeks splotching in a red too deep to have anything to do with the chill outside. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t know and, even if I had, I was hardly trying to… Well, that is to say, I—”

“He was looking for a job!” Aurelia’s smile was far too wide for someone about to be in quite a bit of trouble, showing off the gaps from her missing teeth. “And we have one, don’t we?”

“Is that why you were out here?” There wasn’t any need for Aurelia to answer when the little hops the question set off did it for her. Dorian had his own fall too close in mind not to bend down to scoop her up into his arms, even if she was at least wearing steadier shoes than his own dressier ones. “That’s not the sort of thing you need to fret after, you know that.”

“There’s no shame in trying to help.” And Dorian was about to snap at someone trying to overstep his own parenting, let alone a stranger, of all people. But the man wasn’t even looking at him, instead offering a soft little smile to Aurelia. “Except if you make people worry while you’re at it. Had to learn that one the hard way.”

That was enough of an outlier for Dorian to already have his own opinions brewing. A pity that all of them might not be quite proper to engage in around small ears as it would cut off whatever rebuttal Aurelia must be readying herself for.

Regardless of the adoption, she had managed to inherit the Pavus family’s near genetic tendency to never settle for a single word when twenty could make your point so much better.

Except all Aurelia had to offer, apparently, was a tiny scrunch on her brow. Right up until she realized she was being observed, that was. “So you should stay.” Her eyes were all rounded out innocence as she peered up at Dorian. “You always say learning’s important.”

The man cut across Dorian’s little huff with a rumble of a laugh. “Course it is,” he said, “but I don’t think your father’s looking to hire a babysitter for around here.”

“You say that now, but our sous-chef position comes close.” Leliana had a little wave of her fingers for Aurelia’s cry of her name, but what was far more interesting was how their strange man all but stood to attention when she came to stand before him. “Trusting that the Templars didn’t knock all that experience right out your head.”

Dorian couldn’t entirely control the way he shifted back then, arms tightening around Aurelia, despite her questioning little sound. It made the man— _ Cullen _ —drop his gaze, hissing out through his teeth.

“Leliana, that’s not—”

“He’s not a part of them now,” Leliana asserted, as though this man hadn’t just been established as part of the unit that had once been in a cold war deadlock with Dorian’s home country. “Left in quite the dramatic exit, if the rumors are to be trusted.”

There was such a wretched look twisting up Cullen’s face that even Dorian had to press his lips tight against it.

“You two  _ are _ friends, aren’t you?” He swallowed hard, doing his best to ignore how even Aurelia’s head swiveled towards him in surprise at that. “At the very least, if he  _ did _ leave then that has to mean that he no longer remains bound to their dogma.” 

“Of course not,” Cullen said. “But if that’s…” He sighed as if he was pushing out the weight of the world off his shoulders with the action, a gloved hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “I don’t want to make you feel obligated to do something that makes you uncomfortable. Not at all.”

It was a gamble, to be sure, but Dorian had been taking those since racing out of Tevinter altogether. And, alright, maybe there was a little something that could use a bit of answering for more than one reason.

“You do know what spices are, right?” He shifted, bouncing Aurelia in his arms a little to distract from her dragged out exclamation of his name. “People in this region do seem dangerously allergic to them.”

That earned him another of those laughters that threatened to warm him right from the inside out if only Cullen would get closer. “Don’t worry,” was the answer. “Had to learn how to make a pretty decent curry if I wanted to keep Josephine happy.”

“Will that suffice?” Leliana prompted.

It was all that Dorian could do to nod at that, letting her lead Cullen in with promises of a training period. All too focused on the reminder that— _ he’ll be able to cook, all my favorite foods too. _

Right up until Aurelia leaned up to blow a raspberry onto his cheek that was.

*

It would have been easier, truth be told, if Cullen had found something to trip over under the probation of training. Not that Dorian had been holding out hope for anything truly catastrophic. That would have been cruel, particularly to a man who had already seemed far too relieved to learn something as simple as that, yes, he could definitely be paid for the stretch of his training, even if things didn’t work out.

That was already more than enough to want things to turn out well, even without the need to bring the kitchen staff back to balance at last.

He just didn’t think it was too much to expect an issue or two; particularly with the “unique” personalities their premise tended to collect.

Bull, at least, had had the decency to ask ahead— _ this _ time—whether raunchiness would be a problem, to which Cullen had simply offered up a shrug with the reminder that he had been in the army. Something that Bull, of course, had taken as his own personal challenge. It led to a series of blushes that not just Bull had deemed “adorable” (an assumption Dorian could at least agree with in private) but not a single blow up or any mistakes Bull couldn’t claim responsibility for and fix up himself.

Even Sera’s usual hazing pranks were met with only a roll of the eyes and some groans. Escalation only found her facing down her own share until Cullen had to slyly admit to the preparation that younger siblings gave you when their dishwasher pinned him up against the wall. It led to him coming away with bubbles in his hair, but that had been worth it for a day full of Aurelia’s giggles, if nothing else.

Vivienne, at the very least, was content to have her station left undisturbed by a member of the kitchen staff more inclined towards a quiet sense of respect than the rest.

The waitstaff were still a bit of a problem, but when that included characters such as Varric and the menagerie he kept recruiting that was to be expected.

The only oddness seemed to be in Aurelia’s determination not to let Dorian keep a proper, professional distance.

“He thinks you don’t like him,” she was all too ready to parrot up to him, eyes wide in a way that never failed to spell trouble for him. “But you do, don’t you, Papa?”

Which was, truth be told, the only excuse Dorian had to offer up for why he had decided to search Cullen out on his own rather than hand the task over to Leliana. Even Josephine could have done it, if only to give Josephine a break from their resident “admiral”, who still seemed determined to toe the line of their dress code regulations on the regular. 

The force with which Cullen started at the knock on the entrance way into the far back of the kitchen, however, perhaps it really would have been better to send over someone he was more comfortable with.

“Sorry, I can come back if—”

“No, no, it’s…” Cullen was already pushing to his feet, brushing his knees free of imaginary dust that had gathered there while checking stock. Or, perhaps that hadn’t been what he was doing, if the book in his hand was any clue. And, even if it wasn’t, the return of that splotchy (not adorable at all, damnit) blush would have done it. “Aurelia claimed you wouldn’t mind if I borrowed it, but I shouldn’t have just assumed—”

“Oh, please, you have no need to worry,” Dorian cut in. “My daughter has no interest in being  _ that _ devious. And, even then, she likes you far too much to want to try to get you fired.”

That brought the startings of a smile to Cullen’s face, at least. “Is that jealousy I detect?” He was already laughing by the time that Dorian caught on enough to start spluttering. “You have to know that no one stands a chance of snatching your title as her favorite.”

“Well, it’s for the best, really,” Dorian managed with a little clearing of his throat. “It would be a shame if you won through bribing her with food.”

“With… Hold a moment!” Cullen pushed to his feet, face set in a determination that Dorian really shouldn’t be managing to find sweet. “I was only making sure she had something set aside. Something that isn’t always the mozzarella sticks she tries to order.”

“You made her like  _ carrots _ ,” Dorian said. “The last time I tried that, I found them in her dollhouse chimney. The chimney!”

Cullen’s shoulders were shaking with laughter now, something that left Dorian defenseless in biting back a smile (something he really should have been more upset about). “It’s really not all that hard,” he insisted. “You just have to add a brown sugar glaze over them.”

“I know it’s somewhat disguised by what industry I happen to be in,” Dorian said, “but I assure you that, while I might know quality food, that doesn’t mean I can reproduce it.”

“You just need some lessons,” Cullen replied. “I could always come by and show you.” He seemed to catch up to the meaning behind that around the same time that Dorian did, hand reaching for the back of his neck in what had quickly become a familiar movement to track. “That is to say… For letting me borrow the book?”

“It’s really not any kind of hardship,” Dorian insisted. “Unless you’re finding the physics a little hard to track?”

“Maybe,” Cullen admitted, “but in a way I like.”

“Ah.” Dorian didn’t have a single reason for his tongue to start to stick to the roof of his mouth, he knew that. It wasn’t as if Cullen was talking about anything other than that book. No matter how fixed his eyes might be on Dorian (and not in a way that could be called fond in any way!). “Good to know since I… Well, it seemed only fair to let you know that your training has wrapped up. The position’s yours if you can still find it in yourself to tolerate the lot of us.”

“You say that like it’s any sort of hardship.” Cullen barked out a laugh when Dorian arched a brow at him. “Alright, so it  _ is _ , but the fun sort. Besides, if I wasn’t around then who would make sure that Sera doesn’t add honey to Vivienne’s latest creation?”

“Not bees?” Dorian waved a hand at Cullen’s startled expression. “It’s a long story, one we’re not having without wrangling someone to make us a cocktail in the process.”

It might not be entirely appropriate, but at least he could conceal it under the guise of something he had done with plenty of the other staff too. And, unlike any of them, Cullen didn’t try to pass Aurelia off to Dorian the instant she crawled into her lap. Through his encouragement she actually wound up with a little drink of her own—all set up in a fancy glass with its own garnish for all that it was little more than juice.

If he could only ignore the weight of Leliana’s eyes on him, it would be perfect.

*

Back in the first year that Dorian had managed to get his business venture off the ground, he had been certain that the holidays would be a slow time. Even people born into the area seemed as unwillingly to go out into the cold as he himself did. So, with families as an excuse, he had been certain that everyone would remain bundled up inside with meals out the last thing on their minds.

He had forgotten, of course, that there were people out there as unwilling to be around their own families as he was. Not to mention all the people who had somehow not considered what it meant to make a full meal until the last second possible and were now furious that their local restaurants couldn’t simply come over and do it for them. 

So, with the start of the biggest winter holiday of them all looming on the horizon, they were now packed enough to be turning away people at the door. It was bad enough that even Vivienne had resorted to murmuring an ever darkening string of words under her breath in her mother tongue and Josephine had made not a single move to scold Sera for insisting that she was going to make a voodoo doll out of the next person to send back a plate of perfectly prepped food.

It made Dorian feel considerably more warranted in insisting on, “Where’s Cullen?” He would have liked to make the claim that the crack to his voice had more to do with exhaustion than concern, but, based on how Bull glanced up at him, considering, he couldn’t quite pull it off. 

“Went into the back to drop off the little lady’s plate of food.” Bull frowned at the clock. “Jeez, that long ago?”

“I could…” Josephine was interrupted by the arrival of Cole, hands lifting into what could almost be called a toss before she curled them down to her hips with noticeable effort. “What is it now?”

“The table at twelve keeps insisting the wine tastes off,” Cole replied, “but that’s because her husband keeps ordering badly. It’s meant to be the same as from their honeymoon, but he keeps getting it  _ wrong _ . Why doesn’t she just—-”

“Oh, Cole,” Josephine sighed. “We’ve discussed this, yes?”

“It’s our job to provide a service,” Cole murmured. “But mine could be helping!”

Josephine shook her head. “I’ll take care of it,” she said. “Since you’ve already guessed the right vintage, why don’t you take it out to their table while I smooth their feathers down?”

Sera’s nose wrinkled as Cole raced past her. “How do you always  _ know _ ?” she demanded. “It’s creepy!”

“Says the person about to make a voodoo doll.” Dorian shook his head, taking a step back as Sera’s flailing limbs almost upset the dishwater onto his shoes. “I’m going to go check the office. See what’s holding Cullen up.”

It couldn’t be anything to do with Aurelia, he did his best to reassure himself. She was always understanding of their busy times, all the ready to set up shop in his office if it meant she got to watch all the cartoons her heart could desire. Or, in this case, whatever Christmas movie had struck her fancy.

Except when Dorian rounded the corner to head down the hallway it wasn’t the tinny beat of an old timey musical he heard, but the little sniffling noises that never ceased to make his heart knock to a stop in his chest.

Aurelia wasn’t alone when he got there, though. Instead she was braced up on Cullen’s shoulder, her face pressed into his neck as he soothed a hand over her back. It was difficult to tell which of the next parts were the most odd—the phone pressed to Cullen’s ear or the outright  _ murderous _ expression on his face.

“No, sir, I can’t say I care all that much who you are,” Cullen was saying. “All I know is that no one should ever use such language to a lady. Let alone a little one.” Whatever the person on the other end came up with as a response only seemed to make things worse, if the hard set of Cullen’s mouth was an indication. “How Dorian manages to tolerate you is anyone’s guess, but that doesn’t mean he  _ should _ . Particularly not now, of all times. And if you manage to make things any worse for him or his real family, I’ll…”

It took Dorian a moment or two of waiting for the next words to drop to realize that they weren’t going to come. Not when Cullen had caught sight of him in the doorway, face going slack as the steam seemed to trickle out of him all at once. It made something catch in Dorian’s chest, something that propelled him forward to sooth a hand over Cullen’s arm when he started to sputter out explanations.

“Hang up,” he murmured, breathing out a sigh of relief when Cullen did, before turning to ease a hand over his daughter’s hair. “Well, little one? What happened?”

Aurelia turned her face, eyes still misty as she gulped for shaky bits of breath. “Wanted to tell the mean man to go a—-away,” she hiccuped. “But he wouldn’t...wouldn’t listen!”

“Yes, he’s very bad at that.” Dorian pressed a kiss to the top of Aurelia’s head as more tears threatened to spill loose. “But you were very brave to try.” He hesitated for a moment before risking a glance over at Cullen. “As were you.”

“Not really.” Cullen looked over at Aurelia, face twisting up as he eased his thumb in circles over the small of her back. “It was what anyone would have done.”

“Not in my experience,” Dorian murmured. 

That was already more than enough baring of hearts for the night, though, even without factoring in whatever Cullen must have heard through that call before Dorian came in. So he moved to scoop Aurelia free from Cullen’s hold, already trying to work out whether warmed apple cider or cocoa would serve as the better distraction, before realizing that he had underestimated just how caught his daughter’s little hands were in Cullen’s shirt.

At least enough to bring Cullen stumbling forward, hand bracing against the wall that Dorian’s stumbled back against.

“Um...this isn’t really....”

“Because I’m your boss?” Dorian should stop talking now; he  _ absolutely _ knew that. This wasn’t something he should be trying for at all, let alone with his daughter half clung into his arms. “Or is it…” This part was always the hangup, after all. “Is it because I’m a man?” 

Cullen pushed backwards at that, stumbling hard enough that Dorian was sure he had his answer already. Except then Cullen was shaking his head. “No! It’s not…” He dug his fingers into his hair, making a mess of the gel that kept his curls under a loose sense of order. “It has to do with something else. Something that—”

“No!” Aurelia was shooting up in Dorian’s arms now, wiggling as though that would be enough to raise her up even higher. “You promised!”

“Promised what?” Dorian narrowed his eyes first at his daughter who only gulped then at Cullen, who looked hardly any better. “Promised  _ what _ ?”

For a long moment, he thought that he was going to have to demand again. Then Cullen reached into his pocket to remove a tiny folded up bit of paper. The sight of which filled Dorian with a sense of dread before he even got it back into his hands. He had been the one to trace those folds often enough to make them almost worn through, after all.

“How did you get this?”

His voice sounded distant, flat, even to his own ears, so he could hardly blame Cullen for wincing. “Aurelia gave it to me.” He swallowed hard, eyes shining as he glanced up towards the ceiling. “She said it was your Christmas list.”

Dorian nodded, taking one careful breath after the other before letting his eyes slide shut. “Could you please get back on the floor?” He was proud of how steady his voice managed to be. “I need to have a word with my daughter.” 

“Don’t be too hard on her,” Cullen echoed, as if from far away. “Please?”

And then he was gone. As he always should have been.

*

It didn’t make sense to ground Aurelia, not so near the holidays, but there were some privileges Dorian could still curtail. Less endless uses of their ordering system for snacks, water in the place of ever filling mugs of cocoa, and a bedtime made possible by Felix stepping in to babysit. He insisted as much as Aurelia did that all she had ever meant to do was help, but that mattered for little with his privacy broken and Cullen clearly uncomfortable to even be in the same room as him anymore.

He still loved her, of course, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a part of him that was stung that she would go behind his back. Even if he could follow her logic into knowing he never would have let her had she proposed it in the open.

But maybe it would have been better then. Anything that would have let him cling to his certainty that such dreams couldn’t erupt into reality, saving him the pain of the comedown back into reality.

It was easier to focus on Aurelia if not the business, making sure she would look as perfect as ever for their annual Christmas Eve party. She looked so uncertain as he did so, though, insisting more than once on whether he was really coming with her that he had to cave to hugging her, no matter how it crinkled her dress. 

She still looked lovely, regardless, all done up in flowing whites and shiny golds. And, if her first impulse was to rush directly to the snack table, he could forgive her on a holiday of all nights. Besides, better for the initial rush of sugar to happen when there were more people around to help contain her and save the crash for when she was all too ready to be bundled back into the car.

Except all a step forward did was bring him smack into a far too familiar broad chest.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” Cullen tried, but his laughter was weak. It was difficult not to notice the trouble he still had with meeting Dorian in the eye, particularly as he kept shifting from foot to foot. “I… I never got a chance to apologize for all that—”

“Oh God, no.” Dorian’s hands flew up half against his will, head already shaking. “I would prefer not to think about it.”

“Really?” There was an odd note to Cullen’s voice, something Dorian couldn’t quite trace, even now that the other man was willing to meet his eye. “I mean, not that… It’s probably for the best, as she was wrong about the list anyway.”

Dorian managed one, then two, long blinks at that. “Beg pardon?” was all he could manage.

“Well I'm not what’s on the list at all, am I?” Cullen replied. “Can barely get through a conversation with you without stuttering. And the things you’re able to keep track of, all in your head alone, I… I could never keep track of all that.”

“Since when?” Dorian snapped, ignoring how wide Cullen’s eyes shot at the sharpness of his tone. “I can’t come up with a way to fix Vivienne’s reductions or...or to make Aurelia interested in new foods or...or…” He dragged a hand across his face, groaning. “For God’s sake, I’m just wondering why you put up with  _ us _ .”

“Because I…” Cullen dragged in a deep breath before letting it out slowly. “I had a whole speech prepared, I’ll have you know.”

“A whole  _ what _ ?” Dorian said. “Why would you need…”

It wasn’t as if Dorian had never been kissed before. He had, throughout his life so far, had quite the summary of good and flat out dreadful ones. This one came with a clack of teeth until they settled into the right shift of movement together, but even before that there was a flip to Dorian’s stomach and a shine to Cullen’s eyes as he drew back, as if he didn’t want to be looking at anyone other than who was before him.

It was  _ perfect _ .

“The list never accounted for the real thing.” Dorian rocked up onto the tips of his toes to brace his forehead against Cullen’s own. “And that’s what I want. If you’ll have me, that is.”

“As if there was ever a question,” Cullen said, before breaking into a chuckle at a squeal from behind them. “So long as you don’t mind me taking a break to hug Aurelia.”

Dorian could only beam as Cullen turned to snatch the little girl as she raced forward, tossing her up into the air before holding her close, seemingly totally unaffected by the smear of frosting her hands left on his cheeks.

It wasn’t something that he had created all on his own, to be sure, but that was what made it the one that broke the mold.

(And the one he would take for the rest of his life, thank you very much.)

**Author's Note:**

> There was far less cooking in here than I wanted at the end, so I still owe you that, Cal! (And maybe some Stony, but that's neither here nor there.)


End file.
